We started walking in the direction where the other people were led. There were about 20 of us foreign doctors and nurses, from Norway, Sweden, Finland, The Netherlands, United Kingdom, Ireland, The United States and Germany.
We reached the market square and from there we walked along the main road (Sabra Street) southwards. I looked around me. We were surrounded by militiamen with their guns pointed at us. Vera, a Norwegian nurse, grabbed my hand and held it tight. She felt - like me - that something wasn't right.
In front of us we now saw a large group of about 300 people, mostly women, children and elderly people, sitting on both sides of the street. They were kept at gunpoint by soldiers in olive green uniforms, armed with M16's. They wore armbands with a red sign: MP (Military Police). On their Lebanese helmets likewise the red letters: MP.
A few days later I remembered I had seen similar men (MP's), when we crossed the Green Line from East to West-Beirut at Galerie Semaan on our arrival in Lebanon. These were Phalangists, who checked us under supervision of Israeli officers.
In the large group of people I recognized several faces. One of them was Louis (his real name was Osman). He was a black student from Africa. He lived in Sabra and we had become friends during the siege. He smiled at me. I smiled back and waved. I never saw him again.
We reached the market square and from there we walked along the main road (Sabra Street) southwards. I looked around me. We were surrounded by militiamen with their guns pointed at us. Vera, a Norwegian nurse, grabbed my hand and held it tight. She felt - like me - that something wasn't right.
In front of us we now saw a large group of about 300 people, mostly women, children and elderly people, sitting on both sides of the street. They were kept at gunpoint by soldiers in olive green uniforms, armed with M16's. They wore armbands with a red sign: MP (Military Police). On their Lebanese helmets likewise the red letters: MP.
A few days later I remembered I had seen similar men (MP's), when we crossed the Green Line from East to West-Beirut at Galerie Semaan on our arrival in Lebanon. These were Phalangists, who checked us under supervision of Israeli officers.
In the large group of people I recognized several faces. One of them was Louis (his real name was Osman). He was a black student from Africa. He lived in Sabra and we had become friends during the siege. He smiled at me. I smiled back and waved. I never saw him again.